


Let Me Hear Your Voice

by moon_star



Category: Big Bang (Band), YG Entertainment | YG Family
Genre: Comfort, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-12
Updated: 2018-11-12
Packaged: 2019-08-22 18:04:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16602911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moon_star/pseuds/moon_star
Summary: rewarding myself for the last two sad one shots i wrote ;___;plus i have a bit of writer's block at the moment & can't advance on the others .__.anyway, i took the title from bigbang's 'let me hear your voice'x,





	Let Me Hear Your Voice

**Author's Note:**

> rewarding myself for the last two sad one shots i wrote ;___;
> 
> plus i have a bit of writer's block at the moment & can't advance on the others .__.
> 
> anyway, i took the title from bigbang's 'let me hear your voice'
> 
> x,

Someone asked me what home was  
And all I could think of were the stars on the tip of your tongue,  
The flowers sprouting from your mouth,  
The roots entwined in the gaps between your fingers,  
The ocean echoing inside of your ribcage.

E.E. Cummings

 

It’s 11:00 A.M.

It’s only 11:00 A.M., and Jiyong is already tired.

He is more than tired, he is exhausted. His exhaustion is so bone deep that it keeps him up at night. He is tired, but he can’t sleep— he hasn’t slept in days—not really, anyway. Sure, he’s taken a couple of naps here and there, but he hasn’t stayed in bed, asleep for more than four hours at a time.

Jiyong feels his body so heavy, even though he just lost another pound. God, he lost another pound. He is so stressed, so anxious, so exhausted, that unless someone reminds him to eat and practically forces him to eat by staying there until he gets some food, he tends to forget to eat, to take his vitamins.

He wishes it weren’t like this, but he is just so tired.

He feels as if all the exhaustion, all the pressure, people’s expectations, his expectations of himself, are just adding up, piling up on his shoulders, squeezing his heart, suffocating his lungs, making him feel numb.

Because of that, he often finds himself locked up in whatever hotel room he is staying at, without interacting with anyone, without taking any calls, without really doing much other than his art, his music, creating, making, doing whatever he can to make himself feel more at ease, to help him find some kind of release.

There are days when he really can’t do it on his own.

There are days he feels as if the weight of the world, is on his shoulders.

There are days he feels as if everyone is leaning on him.

There are days he feels as if this is more than he can handle—more than he wants to handle—and he can’t do it alone.

There are days he feels like setting the world on fire, letting it burn, letting it end.

Those are the days like today.

Jiyong grabs his cigarettes, his lighter, an ash tray and his phone before he seats himself on the floor, by the foot of his bed.

He’s gonna call him today.

He takes his cigarette, places it between his lips, lights it and takes a long drag, letting the smoke hit the back of his throat, and exhales.

He needs him today.

He needs to hear his voice.

He grabs his phone in his left hand, unlocks it, goes to his favorite contacts and taps on the first name there.

It takes a little longer for the phone to dial, and then a couple of rings before he answers.

“H-hello,” Seungri says, his voice so raw and groggy, and unbelievably cute, it immediately warms Jiyong’s cheeks.

Jiyong closes his eyes and takes in a deep breath.

If he focus hard enough, he can hear Seungri’s small little intakes of breath. He can picture him on the left side of their queen sized bed, wrapped up like a dumpling in between the sheets. He can see his soft ruffled dark hair against the white pillows. He can almost feel his warm tender skin under his finger tips. How he craves to wrap his arms around his bare waist and pull him in, tightly against him.

“Hyung?” Seungri asks, sounding more awake.

Jiyong smiles, _Hyung_ , he called him _Hyung_.

“Hyung?” he asks. “Why so cold?”

He hears Seungri move around, probably sitting up.

“What will you have me call you then?”

He wants him to call him something sweet, something private, something only he could call him like, _'darling, sweetie, honey, baby, my love.'_ But, he’s not drunk, and he feels embarrassed when asking Seungri to call him by those names, and so, he’s not going to ask.

He takes another drag of his cigarette before he speaks again.

“I don’t know,” Jiyong murmurs. “Not Hyung though.”

“Jiyong-ah,” Seungri says, making his name sound as sweet as chocolate, and it’s even better than all the other names he had thought of.

“Hmm,” agrees Jiyong with a bite of his bottom lip, but says nothing else.

They stay like that listening to each other’s small intakes of breath, making Jiyong nostalgic.

He misses him.

He wishes he could be with him.

He wonders when all of this will be over.

He wonders he will be able to go back home and be with him.

He wonders if when he’s back, will Seungri clear his schedule to stay a couple of days cooped up in their home just so that they can be with each other.

He wishes he could pack up his things and go to him at this very moment, to wrap him in his arms, to kiss him, to make love to him, to have him, to love him.

He wishes he could.

He wishes it’d be that simple.

Because he misses him.

Because he wants to see him.

Because he wants to breathe him.

“Are you—is everything okay?” Seungri asks, calling Jiyong’s attention away from his thoughts.

Jiyong doesn’t know why he’d assume something would be wrong for him to call him. If there’s anyone who Jiyong talks to the most is him. Seungri knows this for a fact, and yet here he is, worried about him. Jiyong loves and at the same time hates that Seungri knows him like the back of his hand.

“Do I only call you when something’s wrong?” he asks him, with a small smile.

“No,” he responds. “But, you haven’t returned my calls in two weeks and you’ve left most of my messages on read.”

Right.

Jiyong had done that.

He had wanted to call him back —to hear his voice, but he was afraid that if he did, he would feel like going back to him, like packing it all up, and just go to him.

“I know you’re doing okay thanks to TaeHee and the rest,” Seungri says, sounding a bit upset, but not really pressing on it. “So, are you really okay?”

Jiyong wants to tell him he is.

Jiyong wants to tell him that there’s absolutely nothing wrong and that he shouldn’t be worried about him.

Jiyong wants to tell him that he feels like a million bucks.

Jiyong wants to tell him he feels more confident, more powerful than ever.

Jiyong wants to tell him that he feels like many think he should be feeling: on top of the world.

But, Seungri would see right through him because if there’s anyone that knows him, that really knows everything about him and accepts him for who he is, it’s him: his Seungri.

“Seungri-ah,” he says. “Do you think the world is ending?”

“What?” Seungri asks, sounding confused and worried. “Wh—what do you mean?”

“Just…” he begins, but trails off.

Just.

Just.

It’s just how he’s feeling lately.

As if the reason for him always feeling so tired, so exhausted, so done with everything is because surely, the world as he used to know it is coming to an end. He’s growing up, he’s really becoming an adult, he’s enlisting soon. There’s so much pressure for him—not only from those around him and his label, but from him, too—to succeed, to meet expectations, to surpass them.

And he’s spent many nights wondering if perhaps the world is ending, if perhaps it’d be easier if it did.

He takes a drag of his cigarette and closes his eyes.

Seungri says nothing for all but a minute and then there he is, recharging him.

“You called me at 4:00 a.m., here in Seoul, disturbing my sleep, just so you could ask me if the world is ending?” Seungri asks.

Jiyong can’t help but smile because for some reason, he had completely forgotten about time difference.

“I was having a good dream, too,” Seungri continues.

“You were?” Jiyong asks.

“Mmm, it was really good.”

“What was it?”

“I was the leader.”

“Again?”

“Again.”

“You always have that dream.”

“And every time I have it, you’re the one to wake me up.”

Jiyong laughs.

“I would be a really good leader,” Seungri says.

“Probably,” Jiyong tells him. “It’s not going to happen in this lifetime, but maybe in the next.”

Seungri lets out a small laugh.

And immediately everything in Jiyong aches. He wants to be with him, he wants to see him, he wants to touch him, he wants to hold him, he wants to kiss every inch of him he can reach, he wants to drown in his sweet scent, he wants to hear him screaming his name.

“Ah this is bad,” he tells him. “Really bad.”

“Why’s that?” Seungri asks, all traces of his laugh gone.

“It’s just as I had thought,” Jiyong says.

“What is?”

“It really would be better if I were with you.”

Seungri says nothing in response.

And Jiyong bites his bottom lip.

Seungri is the one person who Jiyong knows _knows_ him, understands him, gets him, more than a bandmate of ten years, more than friends, more than family. Seungri understands him like no one else does because he is his bandmate, his friend, his family, and more.

He is his inspiration, motivation, dedication.

He is his rock, his anchor, he keeps him grounded.

He is the one person he loves the most.

He is the one person whom without, he feels lost.

“It would be,” Seungri says after a minute. “I’d get to sleep.”

Jiyong laughs.

No matter what he says, no matter how sad he gets, how lonely he might feel, Seungri always seems to know what to say, what to do, to make it better. He doesn’t make it go away, a lot of the things that run through Jiyong’s mind are things that nothing can really fix, nothing can really make disappear, but Seungri appeases them, soothes them, settles them.

Seungri makes light of his feeling, but then in the same breath makes Jiyong feel better, lighter.

“You only care about your sleep,” Jiyong tells him.

“You’d get to sleep, too,” Seungri tells him.

“How so?”

“Because I’d be right there, with you. You’d be wrapped in my arms and you wouldn’t have to be afraid. I’d be right there to chase away your terrors. I’d be right there to protect you. I’d be right there to rescue you when the world is tumbling down and coming to an end.”

Jiyong smiles.

Seungri, _his Seungri_ , has always been like this.

He has always told him he’d take care of him, that he’d protect him.

Jiyong likes that, Jiyong needs that.

“You’d come get me? Really?” he asks him, his voice now mellower, even playful. “You’d come fight my battles?”

“I’d fight with you,” Seungri tells him. “And I’d fight for you.”

Jiyong’s heart is so full, he has to put down the bud of his cigarette in the ash tray, to place his hand against his chest to calm it down.

He loves him.

He loves him so much.

And what’s even better, he loves him back for him, for Kwon Jiyong, not just G Dragon. He’s always seen him for him, has always loved him for him, nothing else.

And for Jiyong, their love for each other makes everything easier, it helps him cope with what goes on in his mind and in his life—their lives— because no matter what goes on in this damn world of his, of theirs, their love gives him hope.

“You’d fight for me?” he asks him because he wants to hear him say it again.

“Without a doubt,” Seungri tells him.

“Without a doubt what?”

“I’d fight for you.”

“Just for me?”

“I’d fight for your love, for your affection.”

Jiyong giggles he can’t help it.

Seungri would fight for him, for his love.

“I’d protect you. I’d—”

“I love you,” he tells him. “I love you so much.”

“I do too,” Seungri tells him, and Jiyong can almost see a smile on his face. “You know that.”

Jiyong nods before he speaks, “I really do.”

He feels more relaxed now, he feels more at ease, more at peace. His fears, his concerns, his exhaustion, his pressure hasn’t been lifted, it has just been made slightly more bearable by his words, by his voice.

“I should let you go, you need to get some rest,” Jiyong tells him, remembering that it’s still early in Seoul and that even though he needed to hear Seungri’s voice, as busy as Seungri is, as much as he does, as hard as he works, he needs to get all the rest he can.

“Wait,” Seungri tells him. “I, uh, I…”

He doesn’t finish his sentence, and let’s his words hang between them. Jiyong can practically see him licking his bottom lip, the way he sometimes does when he stops himself from talking, form finishing his sentence.

“You what?” he asks him.

“Let me hear your voice,” Seungri says. “I want to keep hearing your voice.”

Jiyong’s breath catches, his blood boils in his veins and rushes to his cheeks, and his heart melts.

Jiyong’s feet itch to get up, to walk out of the hotel room, run to the airport and get on the next flight home.

Jiyong’s hands ache to wrap Seungri in his arms, tightly, until he smells completely of him.

Jiyong’s fingers tingle with want, with the need to touch him, to roam every inch of his body, to take him apart.

“I miss you,” Seungri tells him. “I want you to come home.”

“I want to go home, too—”

“I want to see you.”

“I do, too.”

“I want to kiss you.”

“I—”

“I want to be with you.”

“Seungri, … you…” he says, biting his bottom lip.

“But it can’t be,” Seungri says. “You have other responsibilities, I know. So, at least, let me continue to hear your voice, let me fall asleep to your sweet whispers, to your small breaths, to you.”

Jiyong was so caught up with missing Seungri that he forgot that Seungri misses him, too.

He forgot that Seungri needs him, too.

He forgot that Seungri wants to be with him as much as he wants to be with him, too.

“God,” Jiyong says. “I love you so much.”

“Mm,” Seungri responds. “I love you much more.”

He could probably get into a debate with Seungri for the thousand time as to who loves who more, but he isn’t going to, he’ll leave that for another day.

Jiyong gets himself up, gets in the bed, and keeps the phone against his ear.

“What shall I tell you about?” he asks him.

“Everything,” he responds.

Jiyong tells him about the cities he’s visited, the weather, the hotel, the food, the people.

He also tells him about his concerts, the small malfunctions, his small mistakes, and the audience’s response to his songs, the way he can really feel their love for him.

He goes on to tell him about what he’s been working on, his art, his songs.

He tells him about where he’s going to go next and the things he wants to try, the places he wants to visit while he’s there.

He doesn’t realize when he falls asleep. The only thing he knows is that he wakes up to TaeHee calling his name past 6:00 a.m., the next day. He managed to sleep for more than six hours.

The first thing Jiyong does is check his phone. He has several messages and other notifications and even a couple of missed calls, but he ignores them all and goes to check his call log.

His call with Seungri ended at 2:00 p.m., in Seattle and at approximately 7:00 a.m., in Seoul. Right away, the thought that Seungri must have stayed awake all that time, listening to him sleep rushes to his head. He goes to his messages and sure enough, there’s a message from Seungri at 7:00 a.m., that reads:

_Thank you for keeping me company last night, I really needed it._

Jiyong smiles, his heart beats so fast, he feels it in every part of his body.

He sits on the bed, giggling with his knees up to his chest.

“You’re in a really good mood,” TaeHee says with a smile.

“I am,” he responds.

“Were you able to sleep, get your rest?”

“I was.”

“Good. You hungry?”

“Very.”

 _I’ll call you more often_ , he sends him back in response. _I need to hear the sound of your voice, the sound of your breathing…_

It is as he had always thought, everything starts and ends with Seungri.

He is home.

He is love.

He is hope.

His world isn’t coming to end, not anytime soon, anyway.

But if it were, he would face it with Seungri by his side.

x__x

**Author's Note:**

> figuring out timezones was such a pain in my butt ... hope i didn't miss up on those T___T
> 
> also... i tied seungri's 'scream' to jiyong :p lol
> 
> thank you for reading <3


End file.
